He wrapped his arms around Abaddon’s neck, feeling lighter than a feather now that the only vault above was the sky. “I’m sorry I insisted on going in there. I’m a burden to you. I can see that now.”
Abaddon sucked in air and shook his head, squeezing Gabriel’s body to him. “No. Never.”
The answer was honest and filled Gabriel’s heart with warmth, but it couldn’t hide the fact that Gabriel was the ball and chain at Abaddon’s ankle, stopping him from executing divine justice in full force. He’d been selfish by wanting to be a part of every murder when all the other children had been killed, and the future of many others was at stake if Abaddon didn’t succeed. Just tonight, he’d almost interfered with Martinez’s execution, and led Abaddon on a wild goose chase to the pyramid for no reason other than his own curiosity.
Where Abaddon was strength, he was weakness. His rage was an obstacle in the angel's path.
“God sent you no visions about this seventh person?” he asked.
Abaddon’s face was obscured by the shiny curtain of hair, but he shook his head, still present with Gabriel as he carried him through the woods, walking sideways so the branches growing into the path hit him rather than Gabriel. “I will dispatch him just like the others if I can. Because if he is still around, he will be there on the night of the ritual. I promise you that this will be when he meets his death!”
Abaddon’s voice sounded raw, as if every word coming out were mincing his throat. He deserved to be loved and cared for, not have to always pay attention to whether Gabriel wasn’t sinking.
“What if it’s not a ‘he’? I don’t trust anyone but you anymore. If Father John can hide in sheep’s clothing, why not… Mrs. Knight?” It was difficult to voice such a suspicion, but she’d been at the orphanage for years, and just because she’d cared for him, didn’t mean she couldn’t have orchestrated his torment as well. Anything was possible if a fallen angel had risen from the abyss and become his lover.
Abaddon stalled, and when he shook his head, the moonlight illuminated his tense features. “No…”
“She did immediately run to Father John and told him I was asking about Harry,” Gabriel insisted, chilled by the possibility that the woman who was the closest he’d known to a parent could have allowed all that suffering. If she wore a mask during the rituals, it would have made sense that he didn’t have memory of her hurting him.
“I will investigate,” Abaddon said as they approached Martinez’s car, which they’d left where a dirt road ended relatively close to the pyramid.
“Of course! We can’t be sure. I just want to leave no stone unturned,” Gabriel mumbled, starting to feel like he’d be able to stand on his own.
Abaddon hummed and put him down right next to the vehicle. “No, they all need to die. All of them,” he said and opened the driver’s door, pulling out a half-empty bottle of water.
The celestial being, who'd been called upon by God, rinsed his mouth. It was such a mundane thing to do, yet Gabriel couldn’t help admiring the way his man’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he proceeded to drink from the bottle. While Gabriel had gained so much confidence at Abaddon’s side, tonight he’d gone in too deep.
Truth trickled into Gabriel’s mind like bitter medicine, and resignation finally softened his tense muscles. It was time to face the facts. Abaddon was stalling with the fulfillment of his goals because he enjoyed Gabriel’s company too much. And instead of aiding him in the righteous cause, Gabriel had become an anchor keeping him from doing what mattered. The time had come to stop being selfish and give the Lord of Locusts his freedom, even though it would hurt more than all the torture combined.
Gabriel sat in the back seat of the car, with his legs hanging out, shoulders hunched and wordlessly extended his hand for some water. This was the end of the line for them. Abaddon might not want to acknowledge it, overcome by the human emotions of his body, but Gabriel could not live with himself if something went wrong because of him, resulting in failure—the death of yet more innocents, and Abaddon’s undeserved descent back to Hell.
But before they parted, he wanted to feel like a normal man, who didn’t have trauma keeping his head down like a lead chain.
Abaddon stole some of Martinez’s mints and leaned against the open door, next to Gabriel, kicking an invisible stone in the grass. “We need to find out who this last person is.”
“I’m scared that we don’t know,” Gabriel admitted, ashamed of himself. He should have been braver, but at the end of a day he’d always been a coward who needed someone else to fight his battles. “I worry that it could be anyone, and they might use my ignorance against me. What if that person is the worst of them all and won’t rest until they finish what they started with me?”